


fare thee well, ennui

by celaenos



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Broadway, Cartinelli Week, Character Study, F/F, Future Fic, Gen, Pre-Series, Theatre, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-14 01:02:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4544142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celaenos/pseuds/celaenos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angie's head is spinning. Her real Broadway debut was a bit part in the chorus months after Peggy disappeared. Peggy saw that. Peggy's been fine this whole time. Angie punches her as hard as she can on the arm. “English, what the hell!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	fare thee well, ennui

**Author's Note:**

> this honestly ended up being more of an angie focus rather than the cartinelli focus i intended it to be. but, i promise, it is still cartinelli. happy cartinelli week!! enjoy me going on and on about broadway bc goddamn, i can't ever shut up about it. (if you can guess where the lyric of the title comes from, you're a champ.)
> 
> warning: there is a not nice at all word for an italian person used once in this fic.

Angie gets the acting bug the day that she turns four.

Climbing up on top of her brother, Eddie's shoulders to take a whack at a piñata, she gets distracted by her parents fighting over in the corner. Eddie pats at her thigh, reassuring her and trying to get her attention back on the task at hand. She can see her cousin, Ralphie and her brother, Gino talking in whispers with a baseball bat between them. If she doesn't hit the piñata, they will. And they'll steal all her birthday candy.

“Come on Ang,” Eddie whispers.

Angie takes a few swings. Giving it her all and not even making a dent. Her arms are too little. Gino and Ralphie circle her. Lucca and Mikey aren't far behind. Angie turns and sees her mother crying. Not paying her any mind at all. Angie screws up her face like Charlie Chaplin in the picture they got to go see him in after New Years. She pulls a bit of the confetti off the piñata and wiggles until Eddie lets her down. She holds the confetti above her lips like a mustache, and starts walking like the Little Tramp. Stumbling around and knocking into her brothers, pretending to be the ringmaster of a circus.

“Ma!” she calls out, “watch me!”

Gino, Lucca, and Ralphie are all laughing. Angie waddles around, knocking into Mikey and pulling him into her pretend circus stage. She pushes him down and pretends that he's a lion. Mikey roars, laughing so hard he can't keep pretending right. His roars are too weak. Angie helps him. Playing both parts. All her cousins and brothers are smiling and laughing. Minutes ago they'd been waiting impatiently for Angie to whack the piñata down. Not caring that it was her birthday. Just wanting her candy. Now, they're all grinning at Angie as if she is as funny as Charlie Chaplin himself. Eddie's beaming at her with pride, and she's even managed to get a crack of a smile outta her surly, self declared too-old-for-a-baby's-party, brother, Sal Jr.

Ma looks over at her and stops crying. Smiles a bit. And Angie feels like she's flying. Feels like she can do anything.

…

…

It becomes a routine. Her parents worry about money, about her daddy's job. They argue about her brothers getting themselves into trouble at school. Getting into fights. Becoming friends with the wrong sort. Italian kids who run errands for men they have no business being around. They worry, and Angie makes them smile. Makes them forget for a bit.

She starts fixing up costumes to go with her sketches. Mimicking Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton to get her parents to smile at her. She does a full twenty minute Charlie Chaplin routine and gets Daddy to laugh so hard he falls right outta his chair. Scoops her up and kisses her all over her face. Calls her a marvel. His best little girl.

Once she starts taking dance classes, she adds the moves into her routines. Taps her way around her mother in the kitchen. Helping to make dinner and giving Ma a show at the same time.

Being funny, it's how she makes friends once she goes to school. Kids ask her to do Charlie Chaplin, and Angie does nearly all of the scene inside the house from _The Gold Rush_ during recess before they have to go back inside. She's got grass stains on her dress, and dirt underneath her fingernails from flinging herself back and forth like the house was moving around on its hinges. Rosa Luciani declares herself as Angie's new best friend. Her teacher scolds her. Sends her home with a note from her mother. Her ma sighs and shakes her head and kisses Angie on the cheek.

“Go wash up,” she says. But there's a bit of a smile on her face.

…

…

Angie soaks up the pictures. Saves up every penny and dime and goes to as many of them as she can. She studies the women on screen. Learns to pout the same way as Mary Pickford, to walk like Greta Garbo, to dance like Louise Brooks. She tells her mother that she is going to be as famous as Clara Bow one day. Her ma only smiles at her, placatingly. Angie glares. “She was born in Brooklyn too!” she protests. “If she can, I can!”

“Alright Angela,” her mother says. Not believing, Angie can tell the difference. “Alright.”

When she's twelve, her father surprises her and takes her and Rosa to see the revival of the Ziegfeld Follies. She watches Fanny Brice, and Gypsy Rose Lee. Bob Hope, and Eve Arden, and Josephine Baker and doesn't breathe the whole time. Grips Rosa's hand so tight that she yelps in the middle of Gypsy Rose Lee's routine. The Ziegfeld girls dance and Angie memorizes each movement she can make out from her seat. Goes home and taps away till she's nearly got it all down. Tells her ma again that she's gonna dance on Broadway one day. Her ma stops smiling at the notion. Realizes that Angie's dead serious.

…

…

It stops becoming cute. Angie goofing off and doing a Little Tramp routine while she's thirteen doesn't make her ma laugh like it did when she was four. Dancing around in the kitchen just makes her snap and tell Angie to stop playing around and actually help her.

When she performs for her friends, they just roll their eyes and talk about the boys they like; Jonathan Ross, George Campbell and Tommy Maynor. Angie thinks that all three of them are idiots. She doesn't understand why they make her friends go all moony-eyed and giggle like they're dumb. The girls talk about kissing, and holding hands, and wanting to go out with the boys and Angie just sits there confused. Doesn't want any of that. Wants to dance and sing on Broadway and be with her friends.

She gets a weird little flutter of anger low in her belly when Rosa tells her that Tommy Maynor kissed her on the lips in the baseball dugout. Her eyes dart down to Rosa's lips. “What'd it feel like?” she asks, a little curious.

Rosa shrugs. “Wet mostly. Like he was trying to slurp a milkshake outta my mouth.”

Angie laughs, and Rosa grins along with her. “That sounds awful.”

“It got better once we'd been doing it for a few minutes.”

“Show me,” Angie says, without thinking. Rosa shrugs and leans forward. Tilting her head to the side a little and grabbing onto Angie's shoulders. She presses their lips together and starts moving hers around a bit. Angie gasps into her mouth. Doesn't think she can move if she tried.

Rosa pulls away after only a second or so, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and giggling. “Like that, only Tommy pushed his tongue inside. Hopefully he'll get better at it once we start going out for longer.”

Angie just sits there. “Oh, you're going out? For real?” she asks. She doesn’t know why her voice is sharp, why she tenses up, but it is and she does. Rosa beams and nods vigorously. Asks Angie isn't it great? Who should she go out with? Then they can go on double dates to the pictures together. She keeps talking and Angie doesn't hear a word that she says. Just keeps thinking about Rosa kissing her. About why her face feels too hot.

…

…

Rosa and their other friends spend all their time with the boys. Angie starts going to the pictures by herself. Moves up to high school and studies just enough to keep Ma off her back.

Angie saves up all her money to go see plays on the weekends. Becomes good friends with a boy named Alfie who's an usher at the Martin Beck theatre. Brings him homemade cookies in exchange for him letting her sit in the theatre when it's closed. Letting her climb up onto the stage and tap all by her self a few times when no one else is around. The theatre was built the exact same year that Angie was born; someday, she tells herself, she's gonna dance up on that stage with an audience other than Alfie watching her. It's fate.

Angie takes as many dance classes as she can afford to. Offers to stay behind and help clean up in exchange for more classes. Doesn't let her mind wander to Rosa; of her kissing Angie instead of Tommy. She dances until her feet bleed, sings till she's hoarse, and imagines her name up in lights instead.

…

…

Her idiot cousin Ralphie knocks off a newsstand and gets himself hit by a bus.

Luckily, Gino wasn't with him. Ma hollers at Gino anyway. Says her brother's son is a good for nothing miscreant who's gonna go off and get himself killed one day. Tells Gino and Lucca they better not be standing right next to him when he does. They nod solemnly at Ma and don't really listen. Eddie catches Angie's eye across the dinner table. Rolls his eyes and makes a face at her. She grins, making a better face back till Ma catches her and threatens to box her ears. Threatens to box the ears of every one of her six children. One by one. Doesn't care that the baby (Angie) just turned sixteen, or that Sal Jr is twenty-four and has been working with Dad for years now. She is still there Ma, she'll box their ears if she wants to. Beside her, Mikey tries real hard not to laugh. Angie has to pinch his thigh to get him to shut up.

…

…

War breaks out in Europe.

People get restless and panicky, wondering if America is going to war too. Having the name Martinelli starts getting her brothers beat up for different reasons than the usual, being-an-idiot-while-in-the-wrong-place fights.

Angie walks home from dance class, sweaty and tired and George Campbell stops her. Asks her if her father is a greasy Mussolini lover in a hiss. Stinking of booze and putting his face too close to Angie's. She's shocked into complete silence. She has maybe said four words to George Campbell in her whole life. Angie is alone outside of school more often than not. Going to her dance and voice lessons rather than the diner all her friends hang around at. Rosa doesn't even like George much anyhow. She is always complaining to Tommy about hanging around with him. She thinks that he and his brothers are bad news. Angie's starting to agree.

“Huh? Is Salvatore Martinelli a fascist wop?” he draws out her father's name; making it as many syllables as he can. Then he spits the last word in her face.

She feels panic deep in her belly. Tries to push away from him and get home as fast as she can, but he grabs her arm and squeezes. Hard. Angie yelps, looking around for someone to help her. No one is around. Angie remembers tussling with Mikey when they were little. And Lucca never showed her any mercy just because she was a girl and four years younger than him. She yanks her arm down, bringing George's with her. Him laughing at her the whole time. He stops laughing when Angie uses the momentum of yanking down to snap her elbow back up into George's nose.

George howls, stepping back and grabbing gingerly at his bleeding nose. Angie allows herself one small second to smirk at his pain before turning on her heels and running home as fast as she can. She got in a lucky hit. She doesn't actually know how to hold her own in a fight with someone bigger and stronger and actually trying to hurt her. Tussling with Mikey and Lucca in the backyard while Ma's hollering at them to cut it out is one thing. A real back alley fight with a strong, athletic, mean drunk is quite another.

Angie is gasping for breath when she slips through the front door. Only Gino is awake. Digging through the refrigerator and eating the leftovers from dinner. He turns and frowns at her. Angie must look as rattled as she feels, because Gino pauses and his face softens a little.

“What happened?” he asks.

If she tells him. Gino will get Ralphie and their other cousins and beat the living tar out of George Campbell. Angie kind of wants to let it happen. But all that will do is get Gino into even more trouble. The boys Gino hangs around with even worry Eddie, so Angie doesn't let the name slip out. Just asks, “Can you teach me how to land a punch? A real one.”

Gino isn't as dumb as he pretends to be. His face twists deeper into a frown. “How come?”

“Will you or not?”

“Depends, who're you aiming to punch?”

“You at the moment.”

Gino breaks out into a grin. Shoves the leftover lasagna back into the refrigerator and walks up to Angie. Messing up her already messed up hair further. “Sure thing Ang. Sick of dancing and singing already?”

“Yep,” Angie pushes his hands away, trying to smooth down her hair. “Gonna take up boxing after high school instead. Think Ma'll be happier?”

Gino laughs so hard he nearly wakes their parents up. Angie pinches him till he shuts it. Grins when he tells her she don't need to learn to punch. Those fingers are lethal enough already.

Angie starts lugging around half an old brick in her dance bag. Gripping it, ready to swing as she walks home from dance class. She'll be damned if she's gonna let George goddamn Campbell scare her away from her dream.

…

…

It doesn't come as a surprise once America enters the war. Angie sits there, curled up into herself on the floor, feeling a heckuva lot smaller than seventeen as they listen to the radio. Ma's on the chair beside Angie, her fingers running through Angie's hair in drawn out motions. Angie shoots a glance up at her. Sees the worry all over her face, the way she's gripping Daddy's hand so tight, and wants to make it stop. She twists her face and starts to do Charlie Chaplin, but Ma tugs once on her hair.

“Not now Angela,” she says, voice rough. “There is a war on. Your brothers are going to fight. Even Mikey is old enough to go now,” a small sob slips out of her. “You're no longer a child. Stop playing,” she rises and stalks into the kitchen, leaving everyone sitting in the living room in silence.

Beside her, Eddie reaches out and tugs at the bottom of Angie's skirt. “She's just scared,” he whispers.

“Are you going to enlist?”

“I'm twenty-four Ang, better me than Dad.” Angie shoots a glance over at her father. His back is hunched too far over. Years of physical labor and the first war catching up to him. Angie doesn't want him to go fight. Doesn't want any of her brothers to go. “He's done his share. It's my turn.”

“But, if you wait then—”

“We'll all probably get drafted anyhow. Besides, we _can_. It's what you do Ang. If you're able, you fight for your country when it needs you too.”

Angie leans her head against Eddie's shoulder. He's always been her favorite. She can't bare the thought of him dying alone in some foreign country. “I know,” she whispers. “I still don't want any of you to go.”

“That's alright. Part of me doesn't want to go either.”

Angie listens to President Roosevelt telling them all that this is a day that will live in infamy. Holds onto her favorite big brother and closes her eyes. Stops listening and sings an Irving Berlin song in her mind. Imagines a time after the war, her name up in lights and every single one of her brothers alive and in one piece, cheering her on from the audience. Prays that it comes true.

…

…

Ma tells her that wartime is no time to be worrying about singing lessons. Money becomes scarce and more and more things are rationed by the day. Without five brothers, the house is far too quiet. Ma directs all her attention on Angie. On her studies. On her helping out around the house. Sure as heck not on dancing or singing.

“It's frivolous Angela!” she yells, when Angie asks to go to her ballet class. “You're brothers are out there fighting for their lives and you want to do leaps across a stage!”

“More people are going to the pictures and the theatre than ever Ma. People want an escape. To be entertained. It's not frivolous. It's making people happy.”

Ma tisks and throws her hands in the air. Stalking back into the yard to work on the victory garden. Angie sneaks out to ballet. Dances till she's bending over gasping for breath. Picturing bullets piercing through her brothers thighs and arms as she pushes her own to their limits. She cries the whole walk home. Doesn't stop going to her classes until the studio has to shut down. Using the space as an enlistment center till the war's over. Angie stands there in her tights and leotard and watches as big burly men in uniforms convince other girls brother's to sign up and fight. Her fists clenched around her dance bag so tightly the straps break.

…

…

The boys send home letters. Black ink covering up half their words. Ma sits in the kitchen looking off into the yard. Holding their letters tightly in her hands. Dad goes to work in a trance. Comes home with cuts and bruises and a temper from being turned away from the enlistment center. Her parents fight more than ever.

Rosa and Tommy get engaged before he heads off to basic. Angie listens to Rosa chattering excitedly about it as she clutches Angie's hand. Angie looks down at their entwined fingers. Swallows and puts a smile on her face. Her acting classes paying off as she offers up her congratulations with a straight face.

She goes to school and studies. Helps her mother with the garden. Gets her dad his medicine and does a little Charlie Chaplin when he asks for it. Doesn't think about Rosa and Tommy getting married and making babies.

The war presses on, and Angie tap dances on a piece of plywood in her backyard.

…

…

Once Angie's graduated high school, her ma stops humoring her dancing in the backyard all day long. Angie gets a job as a candy stripe girl. Doles out bandages for boys no older than her brothers and swallows down her nausea.

She sings for them. Imagines that they're Eddie or Mikey. Belts out tunes to men with one leg or arm, and gashes on their faces. Sees them crack smiles at her. Asking for another. Telling her that she should be up on a Broadway stage.

“Someday,” Angie tells them with a smile and a wink.

…

…

A boy from Brooklyn becomes a real bonafide superhero. Dresses himself up in the American flag, and tours the country with a bunch of USO girls. His newsreels show up before the pictures. Angie watches him call on the men and women of America to help their country. Sees the way he looks a little nervous, like Lucca when he has to talk to a big group of people. And Sal, the way he speaks with pride, sure of what he's saying. But mostly, he reminds her of Eddie. Her heart aches for her big brother as she watches this boy about the same age up on the big screen in front of her.

Captain America and his USO girls come round near Brooklyn; a hometown stop on his tour. And Angie goes to the show. Watches the girls kick their legs up high and smile. Watches Captain America come running out and do his speech. Cheers along with the rest of the Brooklyn kids as one of their own fills them up with pride.

Afterwards, Angie slips into the theatre when no one is looking. Gets herself lost and accidentally busts into one of the USO girls dressing rooms.

“Oh geez, sorry,” Angie says, backing up and covering her eyes with her palm. A blonde looks up from pulling her stockings off and grins. Without an ounce of shame, she straightens up and bares her nearly naked self in all its glory. Angie has a hard time looking away. “Sorry,” she mumbles again. “I was just looking for...” she reaches wildly behind her for the doorknob. The girl raises an eyebrow at her in amusement. “I'm sorry,” Angie repeats.

“It's fine hon. I've been in vaudeville shows since before I could walk. I'm used to it.”

“Really!” Angie steps closer to her without thinking. She wishes that vaudeville were still popular enough. Angie would love to travel all over the country and perform. “You were all great. How'd you get this gig?”

“Why? You looking to be one of Cap's girls?”

“Oh... no I just... well I dance and...” The girl shimmies all the way out of her top and Angie's face feels hot. She looks up at the ceiling until the girl wraps a robe around herself.

The girl laughs. “I'm Julia,” she sticks her hand out and Angie slowly retracts her gaze down from the ceiling to take it.

“Angie.”

“So, you back here trying to find Cap?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows. “Gotta warn you, boy's basically a monk. You're gonna strike out.”

“No! I wasn't... I don't... I mean he's very...” Angie waves her hands around, unable to come up with an adjective to describe Captain America that doesn't sound cliched. “But I'm not...” Julia raises her eyebrows, waiting for an answer as she starts removing her makeup. “He's not my type,” Angie finally settles on.

“Really?” Julia asks skeptically. “And here I thought Steve was every girl's type.”

“Well... apparently not.”

Julia turns towards Angie fully, abandoning her mirror. Her eyes rove Angie's body and she has to struggle not to fidget under Julia's gaze. “Mine either,” Julia says slowly. She crosses her arms in front of her and continues studying Angie. “So... if not Steve, what _is_ your type?”

“Umm...” Angie has no idea. Well, she's got an inkling, but it's nothing that she is about to say out loud to a stranger. She shrugs instead. Julia walks over towards the door, causing Angie to step back into it. Julia places her hands on either side of Angie, trapping her in place. Their faces are only inches away from each other. Angie could easily push her away if she wanted, and Julia waits, to see if she wants to. Angie doesn't move, too unsure of what exactly is happening and what she wants to do about it. Julia waits a moment longer, then leans forward and presses their lips together. Angie gasps when one of her hands moves down to hold Angie's waist.

Julia pulls back with a little laugh. “Yeah, the only girls I've ever met who don't get goofy over Cap tend to be the sort who'd never be inclined to.” Angie can't move. Julia smiles and squeezes her hand. “Honey, it's okay. Breathe.”

Angie breathes. Sucks in air too hard and starts choking on nothing but her own fear. Julia rubs circles around her hand and pats her back. “I'm not... I don't... is it that obv—”

“—No,” Julia says, cutting her off. “Only to someone like me. Like you.”

“I—”

“Breathe Angie, you're gonna be fine.” Angie doesn't feel like that could possibly be true, but she takes a shaky breath anyway and nods. Julia smiles at her. Leans forward and kisses Angie on the cheek. “You ever need a heads up about a dance audition, gimme a holler.”

Angie finds her voice. “I'll take you up on that,” she says in a warning.

Julia's smile widens. “Well, provided you can actually dance, it's a sincere offer.”

“Oh, I can dance,” Angie says, gaining confidence. “I can kick a hell of a lot higher than the redhead who doesn't know how to keep time.”

Julia snorts and lights a cigarette. “Yeah, Aileen's a great girl, but she doesn't have an ounce of rhythm in her.”

“How'd she get hired in a high profile tour around the country then?”

“You saw her tits right?” Julia asks. Angie doesn't comment. It seems to be the answer Julia was looking for. “Right, well, so did the producers.” Angie can't help but look down at her own chest with a frown. Julia stubs out her cigarette and lets out a chuckle. “Relax hon, some of it is actually about talent. Plus, you're a looker.”

Angie blushes profusely. “Thanks.”

Julia winks at her, and a bunch of half dressed girls from the show come giggling their way into the room. Angie gets pushed in the shuffle, and takes it as her cue to give Julia a wave, and head out of there. Julia makes an exaggerated kissing face back at Angie till she laughs. Feeling both more sure of herself than ever, and utterly, hopelessly confused.

…

…

Mikey comes home without a foot.

Mikey, her stupid, exactly ten months and four days older big brother. People always thought they were twins when they were little. Woulda called 'em Irish twins if they hadn't been Italian. Got it hollered at them a few times anyhow. Mikey, who ran track faster than anyone else in their school. Broke most records in Brooklyn and a few in the Bronx and Queens as well. Her faster'n hell, easy-going, doof of a brother comes home without his left foot.

The army gives him a medal for his troubles. Says that he saved over twenty-three men losing that foot. Ma cries and hugs him and calls him a hero. Dad claps him on the back wordlessly. Knowing what war feels like. Mikey nods at him. Crutch tucked up under one arm as he learns to shuffle around with a hunk of plastic attached to him. Angie can't stop staring at the space where his foot used to be. It's the first time that the war has felt real. Like it can affect Angie. She knew before, she isn't dumb. But now—now her brother doesn't have a foot.

Angie can't stop thinking about watching him run at his meets. Racing him around the neighborhood, and never quite being able to catch him. He slowed down for her anyhow. Slowed down and taught Angie how to hold her body to get it moving faster. Slowed down and paid attention while Angie showed off after her tap lessons. Watched her feet moving and copied her. Dancing along with his little sister out on a plank of wood in the backyard.

Angie moves over and hugs him, trying not to cry. Tries real hard not to think about running or dancing or herself. This isn't about her. It's about Mikey.

“I'm glad you're home,” she whispers into his ear.

He squeezes her tight. “Got any new moves to show me?”

Angie doesn't do real well with the not crying thing.

She sits with Mikey and listens to the radio going on about the war. Captain America stops touring around the country and starts fighting his way through Europe with the 107th infantry. A gang of men they call the Howling Commandos. Mikey tells Angie that he met the one they call Dum Dum. Shared a flask of bourbon with him in passing. Angie tells him about seeing Captain America home in Brooklyn. Doesn't mention kissing a USO girl. Watches Mikey's face go tight with guilt over not being able to fight anymore as the voice on the radio goes on and on. She gets up happily and performs when he asks her what the USO girls dance like. Feels real proud of herself when she manages to make him crack a real smile.

…

…

She gets a job at the L&L automat. The work is hard, and people don't have many dimes to offer up as tips, but it's money of her own. Every week. Angie collects her checks and tips in a jar and puts it all towards singing lessons, new dance shoes, and clothes for auditions. It takes her two months of saving up to get her photographs taken proper for a resume. Costs her everything and only leaves her with four copies of photographs.

Angie sighs, irons her uniform, places on a smile, and gets back to work. Starting all over again.

Ma isn't happy with Angie's plans. They argue. She wants Angie to go to secretary school. To learn a skill and have some security with her job. Something she can do till she meets the right man. Angie doesn't look her in the eye. Doesn't tell her she is pretty sure that she is _never_ going to meet the right man. That Ma's gonna have to look towards her five sons for grand babies. Angie's got stardom and spinsterhood written all over her. Wouldn't be much time for a man or a baby on the stage anyhow. Angie's not too broken up about it.

Except sometimes, at night, the notion does feel a little lonely. She allows herself exactly two minutes to feel bad about the raw deal she seems to have gotten in the romance sense. Tries a few times to convince herself that she could want a man. It doesn't stick. Angie wallows for two minutes when the mood strikes, then thinks about her name up in lights down on 42nd street. Thinks about crowds of people clapping and calling her name. Figures that she won't even have time to be lonely anyhow.

…

…

Captain America falls into the ocean. Goes down with a plane and saves a whole bunch of people and dies as a real bonafide hero.

Newsies shout about it in the streets all day long while Angie works at the automat. She takes the trash out to the dumpsters while she's closing up and starts sobbing for no reason that she can figure. Maybe because he reminded her a little bit of Eddie. Maybe because he was a person she knew of from back home. A kid from Brooklyn just like her brothers. Like Angie. Maybe just cause the war has been going on for what feels like forever and she's _tired_. Tired of people dying and trying to put on brave face all the time.

If a hero like Captain American can die in the war, than anyone can. Her brothers can.

…

…

Lucca saves two little Jewish girls. Puts his body right in front of theirs and takes the bullets into his own. Somehow, even with five bullets in his body, he manages to kill the jerry trying to hurt the girls. Gets them safe before he keels over and dies in the dirt a million miles away from home.

Ma wails and falls down onto the floor. Clutching at the bottom of her dress and making a horrible, animal-like sound. Mikey keeps swallowing, over and over, trying not to cry as the solider offers his condolences and shakes his hand. Angie has never, in her entire twenty years of life, seen her father cry until now. He sits on the couch, silent, as the tears fall down his cheeks. Ma keeps wailing and Mikey awkwardly bends down without his foot and tries to hold onto her. Angie just stands there in the doorway, hating herself. Hating herself so much, because the first thing that popped into her head when the soldier opened his mouth and gave them the news was: _'Thank God it wasn't Eddie.'_

Sal comes home on leave for the funeral, but Gino and Eddie can't. Angie stands beside Ma in the cemetery and tries to hold herself together. Ma won't touch any of them. Three of her children are beside her, but none of them are the hands that she wants to be holding. Angie clenches her own hands into tight fists as they lower her brother's body into the ground.

She's not Angela Martinelli, the youngest of five brothers anymore. The numbers are all off. It used to be Eddie, Angie and Mikey together, and Sal, Gino, and Lucca. Three and three. Now, Angie's the odd one out. The only girl. The only one who hasn't been to war. The youngest.

“Luisa,” her father says, gently pulling on Ma's arm. “Let's go home.”

Sal moves up to flank Ma's other side, ready in case she falls on unsteady knees. And Angie and Mikey trail along behind them, moving slower, hand in hand like they only did a few times when they were little.

Angie gets home and goes up to her room immediately. Grabs her tap shoes and goes out to the backyard even thought it's January in New York. She taps as hard as she can, trying to forget the image of Lucca's coffin being buried in the ground. Of how she imagines the bullet's hitting him looked like. Of the scared faces of the little girls he saved. She dances and dances till things blur together, then goes on till Ma comes running out into the yard and slaps her.

The cold makes the slap hurt ten times worse, and Angie falls down into the snow. Tears welling up in her eyes. Ma is screaming about her brother being dead and how dare she _dance_ at a time like this. Says the word like it's a cuss instead of one of the most important words Angie's ever known.

Angie keeps quiet. Lets Ma holler. Knows she's just grieving. That her world has been turned on its axis even more than Angie's has. So for the first time, Angie doesn't holler back about dancing.

But she does look in the papers and find a place of her own to move into.

…

…

The war ends. Her brothers all come home with a heaviness to their eyes. Eddie still gives her a smile and a tight hug, but there's something different about him. His smile doesn't come as easy as it used to. Angie finds herself grieving for more than Lucca and Mikey's foot. The people that her brothers used to be are gone. The war took them away.

Angie feels like a different person too.

…

…

She throws herself into a routine. Goes to work at the automat, eats and sleeps at the Griffith, and spends all her free time either in classes or at auditions.

The girls at the Griffith are mostly good company. One girl won't stop crying into the hall phone to her mother, and Angie doesn't have much patience for that, but on the whole, Angie likes most everybody.

It's odd, being surrounded by so many women. Angie is used to just her ma, her dad, and a gaggle of brothers. Occasionally Rosa and a few other girls would come around, but Angie's lived with boys most her life. She always thought that boys were far messier than girls. She was dead wrong.

Ms Fry runs a tight ship, but there are clothes and things strewn all over the place when she turns her back for long enough. Ms Fry frowns like her ma when Angie tells her that she's an aspiring actress. Mentions something about husbands and babies. Angie puts her acting classes to good use and lies right through her teeth. Gets herself one of the better rooms in the place.

It's odd, having so many girls so near and yet feeling more isolated than she had in school. Angie doesn't bother with much more than making nice and friendly at meals, and going about her days alone. Everybody likes her, but no one knows much more than Angie's gonna be famous one day, and she hasn't got a beau.

Ms Fry tells her that such ambition in a woman can be unseemly to men. A girl across the hall called Sarah agrees and gives Angie a pointed look. Angie bites her tongue. Sarah's got more beaus than anyone that Angie has ever met would consider to be _unseemly_ too. She gives her a real good glare. Sarah shuts her trap quick as anything.

“I think a stage career could be respectable though,” she pips up to Ms Fry. “Making people happy and entertained.” She gives Angie a quick, apologetic look. Ms Fry doesn't look convinced. Angie just bids them both a good afternoon and heads off to be rejected by another casting director.

…

…

When Peggy Carter walks into the L&L automat, she nearly barrels right into Angie and causes her to almost drop a tray of clean glasses. Angie cusses, because she's had two patrons skimp on her tips, one grab her ass, and at an audition before her shift, she got told that she _'wasn't quite what they were looking for'_. Which, anyone knows is code for not blonde enough and needs bigger tits.

Peggy grabs the tray with agility that impresses Angie enough to quiet her string of profanities and blink. “I'm terribly sorry,” Peggy apologizes. Only Angie doesn't know her name yet. Just listens to the intoxicating melody of her accent, and takes in the whole picture. Angie's not so tired and annoyed that she can't stop and see how pretty Peggy is, but she still glares at her all the same.

“You nearly knocked me over, watch where you're going English.” The moniker comes slipping out of her lips before she's even thought about it. Peggy looks ready to apologize again and Angie just sighs. Lets her annoyance drop and fixes a half-way genuine smile onto her face. “You could hurt a gal running around like that. Lemme set these down and I'll be right with you.”

“No, honestly it's—”

“English, the least you could do is park it and let me wow you with how well I can carry a tray under normal circumstances.”

Peggy smiles and sits at a stool up at the counter. Accepts the coffee and sandwich with an apologetic smile and tells Angie that she handles a tray marvelously. Angie bows to her with exaggeration. Hamming it up cause she can, and it's putting her in a better mood. Peggy laughs; loud and boisterous and filling Angie up with the kind of warmth she can't really explain coming from a person she only just met.

Angie heads back over to take care of the jerk at table seven who never leaves her a single penny for a tip. She refills Peggy's coffee twice, not getting much of a chance to say anything else with how busy they get. Gives her real smiles, not acting lesson ones.

Peggy leaves a bright red lipstick stain on her coffee mug, and a tip bigger than Angie has gotten in the last two weeks. She becomes a regular fixture at the automat from then on.

…

…

Angie does eventually learn Peggy's name. She continues on calling her English more often than not all the same. Something about the small smile Peggy gives her when Angie says it.

Peggy asks Angie about herself and it actually seems like she wants the answers. Not just making chatter with the gal serving her to be polite. For some reason, Angie tells her more than half of what she tells the girls in the Griffith. Details about her failed auditions. Stress from fighting with her ma over what feels like everything these days. Angie spills it all out. Peggy has one of those faces; the kind you give all your secrets to.

For her part, Angie knows that Peggy is holding out on her. She tells Angie enough about herself to be friendly, but Peggy Carter is a vault that Angie's not sure she'll crack anytime soon.

When Angie finds out that Peggy's ex-military, a hell of a lot about her starts to make sense. Peggy's got battle-born written into every inch of her body. Angie can tell from the way Peggy holds herself that she could land a mighty punch if she wanted to. (Gino did eventually make good on those fighting lessons. Angie is terrible at it herself, but she can recognize it in other people now.) Angie finds that she doesn't mind too much knowing Peggy's not giving her as much as Angie's spitting out. She seems genuinely interested in Angie's talk about her future career. For the first time in her whole damn life, someone's encouraging her, and meaning it. Angie didn't know how much she needed that till now.

…

…

She might have gotten herself too attached to Peggy Carter.

When she offers Peggy the apartment at the Griffith, and Peggy turns her down for no reason Angie can figure apart from not wanting her around, it hurts more than it should. Hurts like listening to Rosa go on and on about marrying Tommy and just kissing Angie like it's nothing.

Angie watches Peggy climb into a car with a fancy Englishman and thinks _'of course'_. Curses herself for being so stupid. Rings up Julia that night and asks her what the hell a girl is supposed to do with these feelings, and if she knows of any auditions Angie might be right for. Julia tells her to buck up, and set her sights on a girl who might turn them back to Angie. And to pick up her tap shoes and be at a rehearsal hall down in the theatre district at nine a.m. sharp the next morning.

Angie squares her shoulders like she's seen Peggy do. Tries not to think about the woman she's mimicking, and goes and dances till she's one of the only girls left in the room. She still gets a _'no'_ at the end of it all, but it's further than she's gotten before. She comes home sweaty and content to Peggy asking her if that apartment is still available after all.

Angie feels more excited than she should. Julia would shake her head at Angie and call her a fool.

But Angie can't stop grinning.

…

…

If she thought that having Peggy next door would make them closer, she was being an idiot. If anything, Peggy becomes more secretive. Angie's not stupid; Peggy doesn't work for the phone company. Whatever the hell she and Mr Fancy get up to, it's not connecting phone calls. Angie figures that Peggy'll tell her when she's good and ready to.

So, she barges herself right into Peggy's room and offers up some schnapps and her company. Patience has never exactly been one of Angie's finer qualities.

Peggy shoots her down real hard. Embarrassed and angry at herself, Angie books it outta there as fast as she can manage once she's been introduced to the new girl. A blonde called Dot; wide-eyed and grinning at Peggy in a way that only makes Angie angrier as she stalks back to her own room in a huff.

She doesn't bother calling to complain to Julia. She'll just get told that she's being an idiot, pining after someone who has no interest in her at all. Setting herself up to be hurt.

The thing is, Angie would be half-way content to be Peggy's friend and nothing else if she would just tell her something real. Stop lying and making excuses all the time. But the ache Angie feels at being rejected isn't the ache of a friend telling her to beat it for the night. It's something more. Something that Angie hates herself for. Because it's only gonna end up making her miserable.

Later, when Peggy walks through the door to the automat, looking solemn and worn down, Angie stays good and mad at her anyhow. She's got a right. Peggy blew her off and she knows it. Plus, her heart can only take so much. So, she sticks with her anger. Till Peggy offers to actually talk to her with tears in her eyes. Angie doesn't think that she'll ever be able to resist that.

God damn she's a goner.

Angie listens while Peggy cries over some brute she didn't even like. Understands why she's crying for him anyhow. She closes up the automat as fast as she can, then she and Peggy drink schnapps and swap stories about the war till it's so late that Angie's nodding off on Peggy's shoulder. Feeling like maybe she could end everyday like this for the rest of her life if it was allowed.

…

…

Angie opens her window and Peggy Carter is standing out on the ledge, looking terrified. Angie honestly didn't' think that Peggy _could_ be terrified. The woman seems like she is made of steel. They stare at each other in shock for a moment, then there's loud banging on Angie's door, and Peggy's eyes go wide.

“They're here for me,” she admits with a shaky swallow.

Angie doesn't even hesitate. Just nods and goes to get the door. She's used her acting skills for a lot of things throughout the years: to make her family smile, to make friends, to keep people's minds off the war. Or to make herself feel like a different person. One who's glamorous. Sure of themselves. Not little Angie Martinelli, scrawny and born without any interest in the things that good little girls are supposed to be interested in having. But she's never needed them for something like this; lying outta her teeth for a girl who doesn't even like her back the way that Angie wants.

A man in a suit pushes his way into her room. And Angie's got his number the minute he turns his eyes onto her. Starts talking about grandmothers and getting the waterworks going. Men can't handle it when she cries. She's good at pinching her face in such a way that she looks a hell of a lot younger than her twenty-four years. Looks like the scared little girl men think she is anyhow. She knocks herself right into the jerk's arms and wails. As predicted, he panics and gets outta her room as fast as he can. The minute Ms Fry gets the men down the hallway—yelling about scaring her girls the whole way—Angie turns on her heels and hauls Peggy off of the ledge and into her room.

“I _knew_ you didn't work for the phone company,” Angie exclaims, adrenaline still pumping through her veins from the excitement of lying to the law. Her brothers have gotten to do it a million times. Angie never got a turn. And she's had her first trial run with Secret Agents, not uniforms from the neighborhood. Gino'll be jealous.

Peggy looks at her a little sheepishly. Still doesn't explain herself. But, there doesn't seem to be much time, and she promises someday. It's better than Angie expected.

There's a moment where they just stare at each other. Peggy's eyes dart down to Angie's lips. Or maybe she imagines it. All she knows is that next Peggy's pulling her into a tight hug. One that feels a little desperate. Angie grips her back hard. Feeling the goodbye without Peggy saying it and not wanting the moment to end.

…

…

Not ten minutes later, she's watching those goons drag a barely conscious Peggy into the back of a police car. Angie feels a panic that's almost the same as when she found out that her brothers were going to war. She practices a new tap move in frustration till Ms Fry comes up and tells her that she's not allowed to dance at the Griffith. She's disturbing everyone's sleep. Angie slumps onto her bed and lays there angrily all night long.

…

…

Peggy doesn't come back to the Griffith. Doesn't call. Doesn't write. Dottie disappears without a trace too. Ms Fry goes on and on about it. Calling Peggy scum and worrying about poor Dottie. Angie rolls her eyes and bites her tongue and doesn't hear a word from Peggy for over a week. She waits another, then goes downtown and starts yelling at police officers every afternoon.

No one knows anything about an English lady named Peggy Carter. Angie keeps at it for over a month anyhow.

After two months, she stops going every day. On Tuesdays, she's got enough time between her shift and her dance class to pester a cop named Antonio who doesn't kick her out on sight. All the other cops do nowadays. Antonio just shakes his head and looks at her with pity.

Angie looks for Peggy for five months and eight days, then she figures she's gone so far beyond pathetic Julia might not speak to her ever again. Antonio's pity becomes too much, and Angie decides to cut her loses. If Peggy wanted to be found, she would be by now.

…

…

After Peggy's been gone for eight months and twelve days, Angie lands an audition. It's a bit part and dancing in the chorus, but it's _on Broadway._

Angela Martinelli is going to be on Broadway. She's got lines and her own dance moves and everything.

And she's got no one to tell.

Sure, there's people she can call. Her ma, to gloat and say _'I told you I'd do it'._ The girls at the Griffith. Julia. Eddie. But, none of them are gonna react the right way. None of them are gonna be proud in the way that Angie feels. Julia will be happy for her, but she's got her own things going on, and honestly, the two of them aren't so much friends, than they're friendly on occasion. The girls at the Griffith will just say congratulations and gossip behind Angie's back. Her ma'll be angry. Or offer Angie a clipped, insincere congratulations. Eddie'll be happy for her, but he won't understand what it means to Angie. Not really.

It's the first time in her life that being alone really bothers Angie. She's finally getting what she's always wanted, but it doesn't feel like she thought it would. It doesn't feel like enough.

…

…

Angie doesn't let herself wallow for long. She throws herself into rehearsal. Learns her lines and her dance steps before anyone else. She's the first cast member to be off-book, and the director seems impressed with her. Angie can tell. She works harder than anyone and helps out as much as she can. By the time they open on Broadway, Angie's part has grown a little bit bigger. She didn't even know that could happen.

The crowd is as intoxicating as Angie always imagined. Nothing is better than making a whole crowd of people laugh and clap. Angie can't believe that she gets to do this every single night.

…

…

The bit part leads to another bit part. Angie takes it happily. Throws herself into the few lines that she's got and makes the most of them. She knows that she's good. The chorus girls tell her she's the one they're all watching during rehearsals. When they open, Angie gets more laughs than half of the bigger parts.

…

…

The bit parts grow into supporting roles and Angie finally quits the automat. She's built up a decent resume of small parts in the last two and a half years. She's got a reputation for being a hard worker and a crowd pleaser, and the other actors all seem to like her. She doesn't get a big head like some people, and directors only have to tell her to do something a certain way once.

A year after she quits working at the automat, a man from Hollywood comes backstage and knocks on the dressing room door that Angie shares with two other girls. He introduces himself to Angie, and tells her that he wants her to come on out to Hollywood and audition for his boss.

Angie is so shocked that Kathy, one of the girls she shares the room with, has to push her forward and tell him Angie'll be there for her.

“How the heck am I gonna get to California?” Angie asks once he's left. “I can't do that!”

“Don't you want to be in the pictures?”

“Well... sure, but I like it here.”

“Here isn't going anywhere. Get your butt on a plane Martinelli.”

Angie doesn't have to be told twice.

Her ma has a conniption fit.

…

…

Angie auditions for a man with a pot belly and a leering grin. She gets the part and a new name, Angela Martin. The part is big enough that she's got a trailer of her own and a decent amount of lines to memorize. Angie does her work, but doesn't enjoy it as much as working in the theatre. The immediate audience reaction is something you don't get in the pictures. The crew reacts occasionally if something's real good. But after seeing a scene a bunch of times, over and over, it looses a little bit of its magic.

Angie goes sight-seeing on her days off. Gets her name in the mouths of a few other people that aren't gonna hurt her career any, then goes on back home to New York.

Her friends all tell her that she's crazy for leaving Hollywood. Angie just shrugs and lands an audition for the supporting leading lady in a new musical.

…

…

Watching herself up on screen has to be one of the weirdest experiences of Angie's life. She sits there uncomfortably during the picture show and tries not to fidget in her dress. She shakes hands with a bunch of old, balding, white, men and grits her teeth. Forgets to answer to the name the studio gave her till it's been hollered at her at least three times. Gives everyone forced smiles and thank yous, and counts down the minutes till she can get outta here.

She's proud to see herself up there, don't get her wrong. It feels like an accomplishment. But she knows in her bones that she's made for the theatre, not the pictures.

The fact that the studio decided to premiere the picture on New Years Eve makes Angie's night drag on and on. It's not even midnight yet. She has no idea where her studio arranged date wandered off to. Angie took the contracted _Photoplay_ pictures with him right when they came to the party. Her job with him is technically done.

Angie wipes at her eyes in the bathroom mirror and swears that she catches sight of a woman who looks like Peggy Carter behind her. When she whips her head around, no one is there. Angie really _must_ be tired. Now she is starting to see things. Seeing people who have been outta her life for nearly four years now. Angie splashes a little cold water on her face, ignoring her makeup. She sips her champagne and heads back out to ring in 1950 with a bunch of people she doesn't like overmuch.

…

…

As much as she isn't a Hollywood person, she _is_ a theatre person. After her picture comes out, and once she's proven that she can handle herself with bigger parts, people start to give her a proper chance. Not just the funny parts. Angie has to fight for it. Demand to be given a chance to prove that she can be more than the funny girl who can belt and dance.

Of course, any leading lady part means she's gotta do a romance story. Angie grits her teeth and pretends to moon over a man twice her age who keeps grabbing her ass when he shouldn't. Angie lets him. Or, doesn't do more than glare at him good and proper and move outta his reach. It only makes him laugh and hold up his hands as if to say, _'who me?'_ Angie waits till opening night. Switches up her lines and blocking in the middle of a scene and throws him off so much that he's silent for a full two minutes onstage. Angie makes up for it. Getting a good laugh out of the audience at his expense. He comes stalking into the wings boiling mad. Grabs hold of Angie's arm and yanks at her. Hissing about how he can ruin her career before it's even begun. The stage manager hurries over and gets himself between the two of them. Tells Angie that she recovered the scene well, and her costar to hurry up and get to his quick change before he has to go back onstage.

Angie gives him a wink as he stalks over to his dresser, yanking at his tie. She shouldn't have done it, but she isn't sorry for it one bit.

…

…

Angie only stays with the production for the minimum eight months that her contract states. It's a risk to leave when the show is doing so well and it's Angie's first real shot at a leading part. But, Angie can't keep pretending to be in love with a brute every night. It's bad for her health. The smaller, funny parts were more fun. If Angie has to go back to that and stay there forever, she'll be okay. She's working in the theatre. It's all she's ever needed.

…

…

It turns out, she doesn't have to go backwards. An up and coming director and writer team approach Angie about a month later. They've seen a lot of her smaller roles, and the movie, and her most recent show. And they want Angie for the leading lady of theirs. Opening at the Martin Beck theatre. And the leading man is a young guy at the beginning of his career just like Angie.

He also happens to be gay. But the directors don't mention that part to Angie, she figures it out all on her own.

James O'Cannon greets Angie with a hug like they've known each other since they were babies. His smile is infectious. “Call me Jamie,” he says. “This is gonna be fun.”

He's right. Jamie and Angie become fast friends. They spend all their free time working on their lines together outside of rehearsals and talking about their lives. It only takes about two weeks before they both admit they're queer. Jamie laughs when Angie tells him. Kisses her cheek, and says, “I know doll.” Angie's shocked. Jamie only waves it off. Gives her a hug and tells her candidly that the director and the writer have been fucking since they were schoolboys and not to worry about it. Angie's secret is safe.

The two of them get an apartment together just before rehearsals end. Despite their directors inclinations, they immediately start spreading rumors about Angie and Jamie falling in love for real. It's still 1952. Two young, unmarried kids moving in together is frowned upon. Even if they are actors.

Angie doesn't mind pretending to be in love with Jamie. Onstage or off. She is; not the kind of love they're selling to the papers, but, he's her best friend. Jamie's easy to moon over. The two of them make a game out of it whenever they're out for publicity. Who can make the other one go more flushed. Who can get the crowd to go _aww_ first. Jamie wins more often than Angie. He's a pro, and Angie gets embarrassed more easily than he does.

At night, when it's just the two of them in their apartment, Angie ask him if it ever bothers him to lie. If he's ever lonely and missing a boy that he can't have. Jamie gives her a knowing look and pulls his blankets over, making room for Angie to slip into his bed. He wraps her up into a hug and asks her what girl she's missing. Angie just shrugs. Says that she asked first like she's eight years old and Jamie laughs.

“That's true.”

“Well?”

Jamie sighs. “Sure, I get tired of lying sometimes. But it's all part of the game. All actors lie about themselves. This just happens to be what I lie about.”

“I guess.”

“So, what's her name?”

“Peggy,” Angie whispers. She can't believe here she is, six years later, still mooning over Peggy Carter. If she ever talked to Julia nowadays, she'd be laughed right out of the room.

“Blonde or brunette?” Jamie asks.

“Brunette.”

“Oh no, I'll bet she looks deadly in red too.”

Angie lifts her face up at him. “Bright red lipstick that makes you want to die.”

“Well, no wonder.”

Angie falls asleep to Jamie's steady breathing, dreaming about different arms holding her the whole night.

…

…

Before they even open, the publicity surrounding the musical doubles. They go to rehearsals, perform in previews, and in between, catch up on sleep and do whatever talk shows their agents line up for them. Angie and Jamie go on the Ed Sullivan show and do a number from the show. Angie shakes Ed Sullivan's hand and tries not to faint like an idiot. Jamie squeezes her hand and gets the audience to laugh. Kisses Angie soft and sweet and gets them to go _aww._ Angie's losing the game. She sits up straight, does a little Charlie Chaplin for old time's sake, and gets Ed Sullivan to laugh.

Her ma calls her when she gets home. Proud as anything. She only mentions Jamie once or twice. It's Angie getting Ed Sullivan to laugh along with her father that she talks about for nearly an hour. Angie feels a vindication in herself and her choices that she didn't think she'd ever get from Ma.

They open in the Martin Beck theatre and Angie's name is up in lights. Bright and big and over a Broadway stage. A stage built the same year Angie was born. She's not just tapping around for an usher named Alfie anymore. The audience is full. Full of her parents and her brothers and her friends. Angie has well and truly made it.

A week after they open, Angie and Jamie go on _What's My Line?_ as the mystery challenger. Angie lowers her voice and puts on a terrible Irish accent. Mimicking Jamie when he's excited. He pitches his voice high and says cheesy Italian things. They laugh at each other too hard to even answer the questions. It takes three rounds to guess who they are. Angie has a blast.

The show does so well the first two weeks that they're open, they sell out for the next five months straight. Angie gets an extension on her contract and a raise, and goes home exhausted and happy every night. She spends hours at the stage door, signing autographs and posing for pictures with Jamie.

…

…

During the middle of the fourth week, Angie sees Peggy Carter at the stage door. She's sure of it. Angie shoves the photograph she'd been in the middle of signing back at the teenage girl and hollers, “Peggy!!” as loud as she can. The brunette freezes, and Angie knows she's not imagining things. She runs. Leaving Jamie to make up an excuse for her and shoving her way through people.

Angie hasn't seen Peggy Carter in over six years. Not since those agents hauled her out of the Griffith in handcuffs.

She nearly knocks Peggy over with her momentum. Reminiscent of the first time they met at the automat. Only this time it's Angie doing the knocking into, and Peggy doesn't have anything breakable in her hands.

“Peggy,” Angie says in a low whisper. “I—” six years later and she has no idea what to say. Peggy looks as impeccable as ever. Hair done up real nice, not a wrinkle on her skirts, bright red lipstick still on her face. She smiles at Angie. Warm and sad and Angie melts. Then she gets real mad. “Where the hell have you _been_?” Angie asks, hitting Peggy on the arm and crossing her arms just like her ma. “I bothered a million cops. Have you been in jail this whole time or what? You better have been. Because if you just up and left without a word in the last six years I'm gonna smack you.”

“You already have,” Peggy reminds her, looking amused.

“I'll do it again.”

“You were lovely,” Peggy says with a smile. Angie scrunches up her face, confused until she realizes Peggy's talking about the show.

“You came?”

Peggy nods. “How could I miss you big Broadway debut? Well, not first debut—though you were lovely in that as well—but your big break. A proper leading role with an excellent part. In your theatre,” she adds, remembering. “Angie, honestly, it was wonderful. _You_ were wonderful.”

Angie's head is spinning. Her real Broadway debut was a bit part in the chorus months after Peggy disappeared. Peggy _saw_ that. Peggy's been fine this whole time. Angie punches her as hard as she can on the arm. “English, what the hell!”

“Angie!” Peggy rubs her arm, not looking hurt in the slightest. “I just told you that you were wonderful.”

“You saw my Broadway debut?” Peggy nods. “That was _six years ago_ English. Why haven't I seen you till now?”

Now Peggy looks properly chagrined. “I'm sorry Angie it's... I couldn't exactly...”

“Busy at the Not Phone Company?” Angie asks, rising her eyebrows. Peggy swallows and nods. “Is today finally someday English? Because if not, I gotta tell you, I might hit you one more time.”

Peggy smiles at that. “I'll have to teach you how to do it properly. Your form is all wrong.”

“My brother Gino already taught me.”

“Well, he is a terrible instructor.”

“I'm not a great student.”

Peggy grins. “I'm sure you're wrong about that. Just in need of a better teacher.”

“Like you?” Angie asks, realizing that this might be flirting.

Peggy's grin widens. “Do you have somewhere you need to be right now? With your—” she swallows, looking a little pained, “—costar?”

“Jamie? Nah, he'll just go on home and sleep.”

“So,” Peggy starts, “the two of you _are_ —”

“Friends English. Jamie's my best friend. It's good publicity for us to be in love offstage too. We're not... he's actually...” Angie swallows. Peggy's looking at her in that way that makes Angie want to give her all her secrets again. This time, Angie wants to. But she's not gonna if Peggy is just going to clam up and leave mysteriously for another six years without a word. Peggy waits her out patiently. “He's queer.” Angie finally says quietly. “You can't tell anyone.”

“I wouldn't.” Peggy says softly. Angie looks up at her. Peggy means it; the woman knows how to keep a secret. “Angie, have you eaten yet?” Peggy asks.

“No, why?”

“I thought maybe we could have dinner? I could—” Peggy sighs, a little dejected. “I can't tell you everything Angie, even though I'd like to. But... I could tell you some.”

“You gonna disappear for another six years after this dinner?” Angie asks, making a joke out of it as best she can. But her voice cracks a little all the same. Peggy catches it. Peggy catches everything. Angie forgot that about her.

“No Angie,” Peggy promises. “I won't.”

“Alright then English,” Angie loops her arm with Peggy's. “Take me to dinner and spill all your government secrets.”

Peggy laughs; loud and boisterous and filling Angie up with warmth that she hasn't felt in years. They walk down the sidewalk, and Angie tells Peggy all about her career. About her ma. Her brothers. Jamie. What it feels like to finally dance and sing on Broadway after wanting it so badly all her life. Peggy listens intently and beams at Angie the whole time. Like she can't believe that Angie is real. Her hands never leave Angie's. Even once they slip into the dimly lit restaurant. Even once Angie quiets down and Peggy finally starts to talk. Stops holding back all her secrets. Peggy holds Angie's hand underneath the table and tells her all of the things about herself that Angie's always wanted to know.

Peggy rubs small circles around Angie's thumb while she talks. Looks up at Angie and smiles. Angie thinks about the fact that she got to dance and sing on a Broadway stage a few hours ago, and now, she's sitting here with the girl she hasn't been able to stop thinking about for years. And she smiles back.

 


End file.
